


Familiarity

by Ghostery



Series: Jim + Tilly Friendship [7]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 5+1 Things, Deja Vu, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Pining, Pre-Slash, Star Trek: Discovery Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-13 23:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19261513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostery/pseuds/Ghostery
Summary: “Do Vulcans play games, Mr. Spock?” Jim asked his first officer during a slow morning on the bridge. He leaned against the railing with his arms crossed, keeping the smile off his face with some effort as Spock turned his chair around to look at him.Jim, of course, knew damn well that Vulcans did play games.6 scenes set in TOS.





	1. An Identical Chess Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three moves in and Jim was struck with a sense of deja-vu. He could swear he’d played this game before. Of course, he’d played chess, but he was pretty sure he’d been through this exact sequence of moves before. The same strategy, the same tactics. It was uncanny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set pre-TOS, but just barely.

“Do Vulcans play games, Mr. Spock?” Jim asked his first officer during a slow morning on the bridge. He leaned against the railing with his arms crossed, keeping the smile off his face with some effort as Spock turned his chair around to look at him.

Jim, of course, knew damn well that Vulcans did play games. They’d even come up with some fiendish ones themselves. Granted, kal-toh was only fiendish if you didn’t have Vulcan hearing. He just wanted to know what Spock would say and if Spock played games. The last time he’d played chess against a person with a remarkable Vulcan upbringing had been a formative experience for him and one he’d enjoyed immensely. Now, another opportunity was sitting on his bridge and they needed the team building anyway.

“Specify.”

“Well, forgive me, Mr. Spock, but I can’t really see you playing sports like, say, baseball or rugby,” Jim began.

“Vulcans do play organized solo and team sports, sometimes even ones of Earth origin, but I do not.”

“Well, how about games like kadis-kot or… three-dimensional chess?”

“There are Vulcans who play these games, among others.”

“Do you play chess, Mr. Spock?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“So do I. What do you say to a friendly game after dinner?”

Spock considered this for longer than Jim was frankly comfortable with. “Very well, Captain.”

“Great,” Jim said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in anticipation. “Don’t go easy on me, Mr. Spock or I’ll never forgive you,” he said, heading back to his chair. Before he fully turned around, he caught what he could have sworn was a surprised and bemused expression on his second-in-command’s face.

“Sir?” Spock asked.

“It’s just a figure of speech, Mr. Spock,” he said, sitting down just in time for a yeoman to enter the bridge with yet more paperwork.

 

* * *

 

Three moves in and Jim was struck with a sense of deja-vu. He could swear he’d played this game before. Of course, he’d played chess, but he was pretty sure he’d been through this exact sequence of moves before. The same strategy, the same tactics. It was uncanny. There were millions, if not more, possible variations in how a 3D chess match could go. He also knew that given a large enough number of occurrences, the same game could happen twice. Coincidences were a fact of statistics. He also knew he didn’t want to calculate the odds of two games with two different opponents being identical where he was also an opponent. He generally had Spock for that, but not right now.

By eight more identical moves in, he was starting to have a hazy recollection of being on the Farragut, in his cabin, staring at this very chess set and plotting out his moves. There were only three people he could have been playing against at that time: his brother, Tilly, and Michael Burnham. He’d played against Michael most often. Had it been her who he’d played this weirdly synchronous game against? That would make sense, in a way. She had a very ordered and logical mind and played chess thusly and without any shred of mercy. As far as he could tell, the same was true of Spock.

“Have I done something to amuse you, Captain?”

Jim couldn’t quite school his wistful features. “We’re off duty, playing chess in my quarters, Mr. Spock. You may call me Jim, in circumstances such as these,” Jim said. “And, no, you haven’t. I was just remembering something. I was very… fond of a former frequent opponent of mine. Unfortunately, she is unavailable to play now and has been for years.”

“A former consort of yours, sir?” Spock asked.

Jim didn’t know how to take that. What strange phrasing. “Uh, no. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone who could be referred to as a consort. A lover or partner, sure. A consort, barring, of course, a ship sailing alongside my ship, no. She was only a friend of mine, a dear friend, and you play a very similar game of chess, Mr. Spock. Very similar to her, indeed,” he said and took his next move. He estimated he would beat Spock in five more moves, especially if he continued playing the same way.

Four moves later, Spock said, “I shall capture your king in three moves, Captain.”

“Well, that’s all very well and good, Mr. Spock, but check and mate,” he said, capturing Spock’s king.

“I do not understand,” Spock said.

“I told you, you play like someone I knew very well. Don’t worry, she didn’t lose all the time either.”

“I am a Vulcan. Worry is a Human emotion.”

“Certainly, my apologies, Mr. Spock,” Jim said with a smile.


	2. In Need of Logic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he returned, he noticed Spock’s attention was no longer fixated on the board, but elsewhere. He’d actually risen from his seat and walked over to Jim’s small shipboard collection of books. “You have a copy of The Teachings of Surak?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set-Pre TOS, but just barely.

They were in between rounds of chess, it was the third time they’d played in his quarters. He took the opportunity to stretch his legs and grab them both a refill of tea. Spock’s was a pungent Vulcan blend and his was a much milder green tea. He usually stuck to coffee, but they were to have an early meeting before heading planet-side for a bit of exploration. He didn’t want to be up all night and the decaf from the synthesizers was awful.

As he returned, he noticed Spock’s attention was no longer fixated on the board, but elsewhere. He’d actually risen from his seat and walked over to Jim’s small shipboard collection of books. “You have a copy of The Teachings of Surak?”

“What? Oh, yes, it was a gift. That’s actually an exact copy I had made, the original is back in Iowa.” He probably should have expected that would be the book that Spock would hone in on. He set down their refilled cups on the desk and watched.

“May I?” Spock asked, his hand already reaching.

“Help yourself.” Jim couldn’t help but be amused by this behavior. He watched as Spock pulled the book from its place with reverence. He noticed Spock looking at the front pages of the book. Jim didn’t need to see it to remember what was written there. He almost said something when he noticed Michael’s note escape from its place, he didn’t want that to be lost. It was a copy too, but he’d kept it for all these years. Spock caught it and Jim swore that he read it before putting it back.

“As you can see, it’s been signed by the translator, or so I’ve been told,” he said, just to break the tension. He didn’t know exactly what the inscription said, but he had no reason to disbelieve Michael. “Which is why I had the copy made. It’d be a shame if it was damaged because I took it on a ship with me.” That was far from the only reason, but Spock didn’t necessarily need to know everything.

Spock looked at him. “You’ve never translated the inscription?”

“No, I took it on faith. Why?” Michael wasn’t much of a jokester. She had a sense of humor, sure, but not about her grandfather, surely. “Of course… you can read it. What does it say?”

“It says roughly what you think it does. ‘Kirk, May the knowledge this book holds serve you well. Skon,” Spock said, his voice slipping into a slight accent.

Spock was right, naturally. “That’s about what I expected it to say,” he confirmed.

“Have you read the book, Captain?”

So damn formal. Spock would look at one of his most treasured possessions, hold it in his hands, and still not call him by his first name. “Yes, cover to cover several times. I had to get some commentaries though, for context. The few classes I took covering Vulcan culture did not adequately prepare me for reading it.” Not even the extra course he’d taken at the Academy was enough. It was just like how he could speak and read a smattering of Vulcan (having a crush on someone raised on Vulcan by a Vulcan to pretty much be a Vulcan does a number on a person), but that didn’t prepare him at all for whatever older dialect Skon had written that inscription in. If he hadn’t trusted Michael, and now Spock, he’d have gone to Uhura for a translation by now.

Speaking of Spock, he looked surprised, inasmuch as he ever did.

“You were expecting me to say that I hadn’t and when I tried it had put me to sleep.” It _was_ true that he’d read the book, just as it was true that it had assisted him with falling asleep many times over the years, but he was perfectly capable of reading philosophy and staying awake. He could even take notes and had.

“No, Captain, I had no such assumptions,” Spock said.

“You’re better than most then.”

He watched Spock put the book back in its place. Spock’s fingers caressed the spine of the book and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, which was right next to it. It was almost a benediction and sent an involuntary shiver down _his_ spine. What the hell would possess Spock to do that? He shook himself out of it.

“The same person gave me both of those. You saw her note, she could have an odd sense of humor sometimes,” he said. Michael’s joke probably didn’t translate very well for Spock. Somehow, that only made it funnier to him. He chuckled.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him that sucked all merriment out of the air. “You disagree with her assessment?”

“That I need logic in my life? Not really,” the ‘after all, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it’, went unsaid, “though it did wound me a bit.” At least the first time she said that when they were playing chess and he was losing all the time to her and he was just an ensign and she was still a mutineer science specialist. “I can be logical when the situation calls for it.” He’d been trained in logic, although not up to Vulcan standards, clearly. Spock was giving him a very non-Vulcan look of incredulity and he found that a bit hurtful too, but it was a familiar expression, one he’d seen before on a different face. “Don’t look at me like that, Spock. Gets me right here.” He tapped a fist against his heart. “I swear, she’d make that same face at me. What are the chances?” Incredibly low, most likely. He could almost see the calculations form in Spock’s head.

“I can attempt to calculate them if you wish,” Spock said, right on cue.

“That won’t be necessary.”


	3. Artifacts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d never really dreamed he’d be here. They were on shore leave, proper shore leave. The kind where they were in orbit around a lovely Federation controlled M-class planet with a healthy old colony and a decently sized terrestrial starbase.  
> He’d dreamed he’d be in such a place before, he’d even been in such a place before. He just never thought he’d manage to get Spock off the ship to enjoy shore leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some time in Season 1 of TOS.

He’d never really dreamed he’d be here. They were on shore leave, proper shore leave. The kind where they were in orbit around a lovely Federation controlled M-class planet with a healthy old colony and a decently sized terrestrial starbase.

He’d dreamed he’d be in such a place before, he’d even been in such a place before. He just never thought he’d manage to get Spock off the ship to enjoy shore leave. Granted, he had little to do with it. It had really just been a set of fortunate coincidences that lined up so that he found himself with Spock in the colony’s small museum surrounded by artifacts from Vulcan’s early spacefaring endeavors. A cache had been found on a world several light years away by archeologists and was making its way back to Vulcan for further analysis and repatriation. However, the artifacts were on a temporary stop until a Vulcan ship could make it to the colony and his first officer apparently had enough clout to be able to be shown the artifacts in a private showing with the researcher who was in charge of the collection. In fact, the curator and the researcher had nearly insisted Spock come to the museum.

The curator and the researcher were giddy at showing Spock the collection, though Jim didn’t know why that would be. Spock wasn’t particularly invested in archeological pursuits, he was making an exception due to the origin of these artifacts, so he couldn’t be enlivening them with his insights. Moreover, they seemed to be fawning over him. It was similar to the interest Jim himself would attract as a young man among people who were interested in his father’s exploits or his mother’s research.

Who were Spock’s family? Clearly, they were notable. Vulcan society was oddly hierarchical compared to the more egalitarian and democratic Federation as a whole and Earth in particular. Spock’s family must be fairly ancient and high up the chain. Why hadn’t he asked more questions about that? Oh, he’d not ask Spock, who clearly only acknowledged he even had a family when it suited him. He should have asked Michael about Vulcan society. She’d been raised in it and had carried several awards from Vulcan, she might have known. He'd even got the feeling she'd been taken in by a notable family. He should have asked more questions about her adoptive, foster, whatever… She called her Vulcan foster parents mother and father, she’d even had a brother. They were her family, for all intents and purposes outside of some medical considerations. She’d been fairly tight-lipped herself over them, but he knew that Tilly knew a hell of a lot more than he did. Not that it had helped him because getting information about Michael out of Tilly that Michael didn’t want to be spread around was more difficult than pulling teeth. He couldn’t fault Tilly on her loyalty, but he got the sense that it was currently tripping him up.

He was nodding along, but not closely following along with what their hosts were saying. Spock was standing a little further down the table with his hands clasped behind his back leaning closer to see something that the researcher was pointing out. The curator in front of Jim said something and Spock looked over and up at him. Jim’s breath hitched. There it was again. He was almost viscerally reminded of the single day that Tilly, Michael, and himself had taken away from France and had gone across the Channel to England. He’d been determined to right some teenage wrongs insofar as he could for Tilly. They’d gone to see a performance of The Tempest at The Globe Theater eventually, but before that, they’d ended up in the British History Museum. They’d all been fascinated, flitting about through the collections and galleries. At one point she’d looked up at him from a case the same way Spock was doing now. He’d been more than a little infatuated with her then and now with Spock… Well, it was barely worth thinking about both for its impossible nature and its indelible nature.

Oh, he was really in a mess now.


	4. Privileges of Rank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rank has its privileges and one of them was having a yeoman drop off a tray with your dinner on it at your quarters so that you could sit there and brood about almost starting a war with the Klingons without any interruptions. Years ago, he’d met Michael Burnham and he’d wondered what was going through her head as the war started around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Errand of Mercy.

Rank has its privileges and one of them was having a yeoman drop off a tray with your dinner on it at your quarters so that you could sit there and brood about almost starting a war with the Klingons without any interruptions. Years ago, he’d met Michael Burnham and he’d wondered what was going through her head as the war started around her. What had made her mutiny? What made her go over to the Klingon ship? What was the driving force for her? The answer had terrified him. It had been completely understandable and very very Human. 

She’d been scared. Scared of dying herself, sure, but that wasn’t even the worst of it. She was even more scared of watching everyone around her die. Scared of losing her captain. Scared of losing her crew. Scared of losing her ship. Klingons had already taken her parents from her and any further losses were unacceptable. She’d suffered them anyway. 

Jim had always wondered what he would have done in her place. What would the outcome have been? Would he have been driven to mutiny? He probably wouldn’t have at the time, he’d been awaiting graduation when the war broke out. After he’d fought in that war was a similar situation. He’d gone into battle against Klingons, up close and personal. Those hadn’t ended up being the darkest months of his life, they’d been eclipsed rather quickly, but they hadn’t been pleasant. He was still too much of a company man, too deeply set in Starfleet ideals as opposed to fear modulated through Vulcan pragmatism, to fire on Klingons first outside of a war. 

It hadn’t helped on Organia. Only the Organians themselves had helped. All these years of wondering what he’d do and he’d started a war. But for the Organians… they’d be mired in another deadly horrible war. He pushed his tray away and put his head in his hands. He felt the creeping feeling start again, under his skin. It was insidious and he hated it. He’d been so willing to die today, ostensively for what he believed in, it was unsettling. The last thing he needed was his old survivor’s guilt haunting him, not that it ever stopped lurking around the edges of his mind. It was hard enough being on a ship that had witnessed the death of his friends with a first officer who had seen it as well. 

He didn’t have to go and make everything worse for himself.

His door chimed. He straightened back to the absolute image of a Starfleet captain. “Come in.”

The door opened and Spock entered. He relaxed, just a little. “Mr. Spock. I’m glad it’s you and not a yeoman coming to check and see if I’m eating what I’m supposed to.”

“Do they often do that Jim?” Spock asked.

“Sometimes. Depends on Bones’ mood.”

“I see.”

“What brings you here, Spock?”

“I sensed that my words on the bridge were inadequate to console you,” Spock said simply. That took his breath away. He hadn’t been expecting that from Spock at all.

“Oh?”

“I will endeavor to try again if you would like.”

“Well, I’d love to hear it. Have a seat while you’re at it. Have you eaten?”

Spock sat in the seat opposite him. “Yes, I’ve eaten. Jim, I believe we are focusing on the wrong part of our interactions with the Organians.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. They not only granted us a cessation to our immediate hostilities with the Klingons, but they gave us another piece of information. They told us that at some point in the future the Federation and the Klingons will be allies.”

“And you believe them?”

“I have no reason to disbelieve them. Peace with the Klingons is a worthy endeavor and one that the Federation Diplomatic Corps is now and has been for some time diligently working toward. They are doing this even as we speak.”

“Peace, especially lasting peace, is always a worthy endeavor.” This was true no matter how much Jim doubted it would be achieved, at least in his lifetime.

“Quite so.”

“You weren’t involved in our last war with the Klingons, were you?”

“No. The Enterprise was purposefully kept out of the war, though no one on board was particularly pleased by those orders.” 

“I was.”

Spock tilted his head. “Why would you be pleased that one of the more capable ships of the line would be kept away?”

“That war was a bloody and terrible ordeal. I was on one of the ships ordered back to Earth to try to save it from Klingon forces. I knew I was probably going to die in that attempt. I was willing to die in that attempt along with nearly every friend and all the family I had in Starfleet… well, the ones that were left. We didn’t know that Tilly and… and everyone else would come back and stop it all. I thought they’d all died nine months before.” He looked down at the table and then back to Spock. “I was glad that even if we all perished that some fragment of the fleet would be out there, carrying on with their mission. You were our hope,” he finished. 

Spock was staring at him and it sent a different feeling zinging through him, much more pleasant than what had been there before. Still, something was familiar about this situation. Once again, something in Spock’s barely there expression and even his posture reminded him of Michael, this time from back when she was a mutineer and he’d pay her some small kindness when she’d expected cruelty. He hadn’t seen Michael as anything more than a person with intrinsic value at that time, one of the few apparently. His crush wouldn’t actually flourish until he met her in person and even then they’d both been wounded by circumstance. He’d kept himself in check fairly easily. Now faced with his endlessly compelling first officer, he had to grip the table so he didn’t do something ill-advised. He absolutely couldn’t act on this. He changed mental tracks. He wished he could figure out why it kept happening. Spock had met Michael, but they hadn’t known each other for very long as far as he could tell. He’d met plenty of other Vulcans and this feeling of familiarity hadn’t happened nearly as often. 

“Jim, I came here to assist you,” Spock said with what passed for him as exasperation. What he didn’t say was, ‘and not the other way around.’ Jim still heard it. 

“Your presence here is assistance enough,” he said gently. Oh, that was so true it was pathetic. He’d be ashamed if he still gave a damn about how reliant he was becoming on Spock, of all people, for emotional stability. 


	5. In All The Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was back in his quarters now as the ship sped to Altair Six. He didn’t know how he managed to finish his turn on the bridge. He’d been so tempted to just hand over the conn to someone Scotty, Sulu, Uhura, maybe even Spock and disappear to give himself even just ten minutes to breathe. However, he was a captain and captains didn’t do that sort of thing, being declared dead was no excuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Amok Time.

“In all the years I’ve known you,” he’d said. The words had slipped out before he had a chance to think about them. He hadn’t actually known Spock for that long, even if it felt like forever. Starfleet service routinely made associations become deeper more quickly than almost anything else, but this… He’d scarcely known Spock for… it had been less than two whole years. He blinked in surprise at the revelation.

He was back in his quarters now as the ship sped to Altair Six. He didn’t know how he managed to finish his turn on the bridge. He’d been so tempted to just hand over the conn to someone: Scotty, Sulu, Uhura, or maybe even Spock despite the events of the day and disappear to give himself even just ten minutes to breathe. However, he was a captain and captains didn’t do that sort of thing, being declared dead was no excuse. Okay, sure, if his mother knew any of the particulars and had seen him she would have said that now was the time, if ever, for a captain to take a few minutes to themselves, but she wasn’t here. He wouldn’t have wanted her to be here or anyone who knew him _that_ well. He was already half-expecting Bones to show up and take him to task for something, anything. He probably would if he got an inkling of what was bothering Jim, which Bones would if he couldn’t get a grip on himself. 

The truth of the matter was that he’d noticed something going on with Spock well before Bones had told him about it. Spock had been oddly attentive, far more attentive than he ever had been before. It’d never been anything big: Spock taking his reports to him instead of allowing a yeoman to do it, spending more of their free time together, being a little more protective, looking at him a bit more across the bridge or over the chessboard. It wasn’t something that anyone else would notice. He’d been a little confused, but mostly he’d been flattered. 

Then everything had been shot to hell with one revelation from Bones. Pulling the information that he needed out of Spock had been gut-wrenching and ultimately awkward. Vulcan physiology was the damnedest thing and made fools out of them all. Well, Jim at least was feeling foolish when he didn’t feel like he’d been hollowed out from the inside. Spock had been betrothed this whole time and had never thought to mention it. Jim hadn’t expected it, somehow every single thing he’d learned about Vulcan culture and Vulcans skipped right over that aspect. 

How the hell was he supposed to go on when he knew… he knew too much.

He tried not to think about the fight to the death or when Spock broke that ceremonial stone gong with the lirpa… That didn’t feel significant in any way, definitely not. It could have just as easily been his face. He thought back to ordering the ship once more to Vulcan after being told by Bones that Spock would die. He’d have done anything so that Spock wouldn’t have died. He’d need to think about that, he was responsible for more than four hundred other souls. They all had to matter too. He thought further back to that excruciatingly awkward conversation about birds and bees. He’d first noticed it in Spock then, the change behind his eyes. 

He’d seen that sort of look before or something very similar, but where? When? A shadowy impression over the now unused, and on this ship completely uninstalled, holo-comm system. Tall frame, pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes, a beard. That part threw him. Would Spock ever grow a beard? Was there any way that could have been Spock? Spock had confirmed he’d known everyone who resided in that room on Discovery and he’d apparently been on board at the time. However, Tilly and Michael weren’t insular, unpopular people on that ship. It could have been anyone. He couldn’t even have told someone five seconds afterward if the person he saw was Human or Vulcan, ten years later it was hopeless. 

He hoped against hope that it was Spock. 

His door chimed. He got up from his bed and walked past the partition toward the door, folding his arms across his chest after he tugged his uniform shirt down. 

Some part of the ship had better be on fire for someone to interrupt me, he thought.

“Computer, raise lights. Come in,” he said.

The doors opened and Spock walked into his quarters. 

“Spock, what—” The words died before he could say them and his arms fell to his sides. 

“Jim, we must talk,” Spock said, a little roughly.

He swallowed against the sudden dryness of his mouth. “Yes, I can see that.”


	6. Valid Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock could feel the anger from the corridor before he’d even properly approached the Captain’s door. He steeled himself and gained admittance.  
> “Spock! Have you seen these orders?” Jim asked as soon as he stepped inside and the doors closed behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before The Enterprise Incident.

Spock could feel the anger from the corridor before he’d even properly approached the Captain’s door. The Captain had been in a foul mood since they’d received new orders. He steeled himself and gained admittance. 

“Spock! Have you seen these orders?” Jim asked as soon as he stepped inside and the doors closed behind him.

“No, I have not. They were encoded for your eyes only, were they not?” He walked over to where Jim was sitting and stood beside him.

“Yes, but they involve you. They involve too much of you. Here.” Jim spun around the monitor until Spock could see it from his vantage point. He read.

“They want us to steal, if possible, a Romulan cloaking device?”

“Yes, and make me look like an unstable loon while they’re about it, but that’s far from the worst part. We’re both going to have to be over there, Spock, beyond Federation Space. We’re going to have to cross… I have to order my ship across the goddamn Neutral Zone and look like a lunatic doing it, you’re going to have to take my ship from me, and ‘distract’ the Romulan Commander in any way you can.” There was a lot of venom in the words. 

“You do not approve?” 

“Of course I don’t. These are some of the worst orders I’ve ever gotten. I know Headquarters hates these cloaking devices and how everyone can use them, but us. Still, are things really this desperate? And don’t remind me what happened in 2257 with cloaking devices. I remember.”

“I have never sought to remind you of such instances that bring you pain, Jim.”

“Yes, you have, it’s part of your job, just not in private,” Jim corrected, his tone gentle. “I don’t want to hand you over to a bunch of Romulans,” he said, “and not only do I have to do that, but I also have to hand the entire crew over to a bunch of Romulans.”

“You have to hand us all over to the mercy of a singular Romulan and me in particular,” he said.

Jim looked up at him. “Thank you for pointing that out. That is not an improvement, Mister,” Jim said evenly. “There’s got to be a better way to do this.” The anger and frustration were back.

“There is not a way that would also involve following our orders,” Spock said, putting a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Also, should the plan work, we will both be back on the Enterprise and in Federation Space within a matter of hours.”

“I appreciate that you’re trying very hard to be comforting,” Jim said, patting the hand on his shoulder before giving in and just holding onto it. “But I’m not actually going to have to work very hard to be an, how’d they put it, ‘anxious wreck’ for the duration of this mission. As if that is not bad enough, I have to watch you ‘distract’ someone else.” Spock could feel the emotions Jim was feeling: multi-faceted concern, anger, fear, a tiny trickle of shame and jealousy, and the ever-present undercurrent of affection. It was all wrapped up in resignation. Jim would do this mission to the best of his ability and would count on Spock to do the same. It was all they could do. Spock did not point out that he’d watched Jim ‘distract’ a fair number of people for the good of the ship and that this would be no different, it would change nothing between them.

“You’ll likely be in their brig or back over on the Enterprise for most of that part of the mission,” Spock said.

“Still not the most comforting thought.” Jim sighed. “I know this reaction doesn’t make that much sense to you. There’s really no way you can make this better, except to promise that we’ll end up here, together again when it's over.” Jim lifted Spock’s hand from his shoulder and pressed a completely innocent, by Human standards, and scandalously obscene kiss, by Vulcan standards, to it. This was intensified by the way he was holding Spock’s hand.

It took Spock longer than he’d have liked to recover. “I shall do this.”

“How do you think you’ll like me with pointed ears?” Jim asked, slipping into a more teasing manner, all other emotions pushed to one side for the time being. “That’s part of the mission, too.”

“I cannot say for certain, but I’m quite used to your ears as they are.”

“What if I’m stuck with them?”

“That will not happen. Dr. McCoy is more than competent enough to be able to undo his own handiwork.”

Jim chuckled. “Oh, I wish I could tell him you said that, but I won’t. What if you like the ears?”

Spock gave this more consideration than it was really worth. A smiling face and Vulcan features would always remind him of his brother and at any given time, he preferred not to think about his brother. This preference increased tenfold with Jim so close and accosting his hand. “I do not think that will be the case.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

 

* * *

 

Later, much later as Spock listened to the hum of the warp core and Jim’s gentle breathing he considered Jim’s earlier reaction to their new orders. Jim’s emotions had vacillated rather rapidly and it reminded him of the ‘blow up’ that Jim’s friend Tilly had ten years ago on Discovery. He’d caught on at the time that Tilly and Michael were close, very close, but he had not thought them to be involved. Most likely, they were not. Tilly’s reaction to their plan of using Michael as bait had been extreme, but it was proportionate to being ordered to send someone beloved to their apparent death. 

Jim’s reaction hadn’t been anywhere near as strong, but the situation was less severe on its face and Jim was older and a more experienced officer now. Still, Jim had aimed all his frustrations at the source and none at Spock, who was going to have to do some of the more unsavory aspects of the mission. Tilly had absolved Michael of her part in the plan and laid everything at his feet. It was arguable that he deserved it. He’d puzzled over it for some time and this was the first time he thought he understood her motivations. She must have cared deeply for his sister, even if she was unaware of the depth. It must have been similar to…

“You’re thinking awfully loudly over there,” Jim said sleepily.

“I did not mean to disturb you.”

“Anything especially important?”

“I think I have reached an understanding.”

“Ah,” Jim said, without any understanding himself.

“I was ruminating on Human nature. You reminded me of someone we both once knew earlier,” Spock explained.

“You’d be amazed how often that happens to me with you,” Jim said. Jim’s hand found Spock’s, pressing their palms and fingers together, and Spock felt and heard the truth in what he said. It was oddly comforting that he carried some of his sister’s mannerisms. “However, unless you’d like to reach another understanding… we should go back to sleep. We have an early shift,” Jim added.

“We have five point six hours until we are due on duty. I would be amenable.”

“I was truly fortunate the day I met you,” Jim said, moving even closer on the small bed.

“As was I.”


	7. Bonus Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In Need of Logic" but from Spock's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this before I wrote anything for this fic. Seriously, I wrote this about a month ago after I wrote the scene in Communications where Kirk actually gets the book. Then I wasn't sure where to put this scene, but I ended up writing Familiarity, which is mostly from Kirk's POV and I decided to put it here as a little bonus.

The third time Spock was in his captain’s quarters was the first time he noticed the book on the shelf. Kirk had gotten up to fetch more tea for them, leaving his side of the desk free. Spock took the opportunity to investigate. He’d seen the book, many times. He’d even seen a small box half full of them in his forefather’s study. The book looked newer than he expected it to, based on the binding. It looked like a first edition. Spock heard his captain’s muted footsteps approach and come to a halt behind him.

“You have a copy of The Teachings of Surak?” He found himself asking.

“What? Oh, yes, it was a gift. That’s actually an exact copy I had made, the original is back in Iowa.”

Spock considered this new information. This book must matter a great deal to Captain Kirk for him to have gone to the trouble of duplicating this book. Spock knew that it could be quite a hassle to accomplish such a goal legally. His curiosity nearly overwhelmed him.

“May I?” He asked before he could suppress the urge, his hand already anticipating an affirmative response.

“Help yourself.”

Spock pulled out the book, it was next to a copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. He couldn’t fathom the organizational scheme that would place them next to one another. He flipped the book open to the front matter, noted the small mark that would distinguish it from the original, and then registered the flowing writing on the page.

_Kirk,_

_May the knowledge this book holds serve you well._

_Skon_

His forefather had signed the original book? An explanation of sorts was on the opposite side of the page. It was another inscription indicating to whom the book was given and by whom, along with a stardate. Spock read it twice to make sure there had been no mistake. His sister had given Captain Kirk this book? Not only that, but his captain had seen it as so precious that he dared not take the original into space? The stardate itself was puzzling as it indicated the book had been intended for Kirk before Spock had even made it to Discovery. How could they have known each other? A note slipped out from the next page and he read it as well, without thinking that he might be invading anyone’s privacy by doing so.

_Since I think you'll have difficulty reading this particular example of Vulcan calligraphy, I’ll just tell you that I got Skon himself to sign this for you._

_Aren’t you lucky he’s my grandfather? I think it’ll come in handy. You could use some logic in your life._

_\- MB_

He slid the note back into place. His sister had not only given Captain Kirk this book but had written to him as well. They were clearly acquainted to a degree Spock was struggling to see as anything other than unsettling. Additionally, did Michael really imply Kirk was knowledgable of the Vulcan language? There were clearly many mysteries to his new captain and, come to that, his sister as well.

“As you can see, it’s been signed by the translator, or so I’ve been told. Which is why I had the copy made. It’d be a shame if it was damaged because I took it on a ship with me.”

“You’ve never translated the inscription?” Spock asked keeping his tone neutral with some additional effort. He was beginning to suspect the scheme that would place a children’s book next to a philosophy book. It was entirely possible, and fairly plausible, that Michael had gifted both of these books to his captain.

“No, I took it on faith. Why? Of course… you can read it. What does it say?” His captain’s confusion bled into innocent delight and curiosity.

“It says roughly what you think it does,” Spock said and then read the Vulcan text aloud.

Spock looked up in time to see the man nod. “That’s about what I expected it to say.”

“Have you read it, Captain?”

“Yes, cover to cover several times. I had to get some commentaries though, for context. The few classes I took covering Vulcan culture did not adequately prepare me for reading it.”

Spock raised an eyebrow and nodded, this did not surprise him. He’d likely taken the same required courses and found the information lacking himself, but there were some things that couldn’t be covered in an introductory course. They simply took a lifetime to understand.

“You were expecting me to say that I hadn’t and when I tried it had put me to sleep.”

“No, Captain, I had no such assumptions.”

“You’re better than most then.”

Spock furrowed his brow and closed the book returning it to the shelf. He couldn’t stop his fingers from tracing down the spine of it and the children’s book next to it, for just a second. He wondered again what the connection between his captain and his sister had been, but didn’t ask.

Kirk had noticed though. “The same person gave me both of those. You saw her note, she could have an odd sense of humor sometimes.” He chuckled, but Spock didn’t see the humor in it at all and raised an eyebrow. The Captain sobered.

“You disagree with her assessment?” Spock asked.

“That I need logic in my life? Not really… though it did wound me a bit. I can be logical when the situation calls for it. Don’t look at me like that Spock. Gets me right here,” the Captain said making a fist and tapping it to his chest over his heart.

Spock hadn’t been precisely aware of his expression, but it was a bit late for that realization. “I swear, she’d make that same face at me. What are the chances?” Kirk wondered.

Quite high, Spock thought.

“I can attempt to calculate them if you wish,” Spock said, knowing it was unlikely that his captain would take him up on the offer.

“That won’t be necessary.”


	8. Bonus 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another little bonus scene that takes place directly after the +1 scene in More Fun to Talk. I don’t think it will make sense without reading that.

Spock walked briskly back to his quarters, inclining his head at crew members who passed him. He kept his mind and his expression blank until he found his way inside his cabin. He mechanically changed into something more suited for meditation, performed his ritual preparations, sat down, and closed his eyes.

 

He breathed.

 

He’d lost a bit of his control today. There was no reason that he should have lost motor control to the point that he choked on his water. It did not matter that the Captain had spoken so freely of Michael. That he had bestowed compliments on Michael was immaterial. That he regarded Michael so highly could only be a credit to the Captain and Michael both. It did not matter that Spock hadn’t heard her name spoken in years and had prevented it from being spoken tonight. It did not matter that Michael and the Captain had spent time together on their shore leave when Spock himself was losing his grasp of reality. It did not matter that the Captain had evidently played chess against Michael. It did not matter that his Captain had been comparing him against his sister and found home wanting.

It simply was. No more. No less. Captain Kirk had known Commander Burnham. James T. Kirk had befriended Michael Burnham. Jim had developed a ‘crush’ on Michael. These were the facts at hand.

 

He breathed.

 

He examined and put away the emotions these facts evoked in him. Jealousy, anger, sadness, fear, disbelief, relief, pride, inexplicable joy were all considered and eliminated. Michael’s presence, for all that he regarded-cherished-loved her, would always grate ever so slightly against him. She’d gained Father’s approval. She’d allowed Mother to be demonstrative in her affection. She’d excelled. She’d lost all and gained all back. She’d given up nearly everything to save all life. She’d eclipsed him and he would forever be in her shadow. She could have had Jim, but she hadn’t wanted him.

He’d solved the mystery of the books, at least. Jim and Michael had been friends and Michael had decided, in the way of Humans, to give him a gift. He squashed the thought that wondered if Michael had tutored Jim in Vulcan. He rid himself of every subsequent thought. What would happen if Spock spoke to Jim in his native tongue? Would he understand it? Would he appreciate it?

These things were immaterial. Humans gave each other gifts for a variety of reasons and even for no apparent reason at all. Starfleet officers generally spoke Federation Standard or their native language and the universal translator or a communications officer dealt with the rest. That Jim would undertake learning another language under these circumstances was remarkable, but expected given his character.

 

He breathed.

 

“There is one thing though, if you go you won’t get to meet my friend.”

“The friend who was granted a promotion?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you have us meet?”

“Because he would adore you.”

 

“Jim got promoted. He sent me a message earlier.”

 

A faded blue-tinted image of a younger man in a blue uniform, turning to look at him just before the connection closed. The man locked eyes with him and was gone.

 

How had he not noticed before? The man was certainly James T. Kirk.

 

“…he would adore you…”

“I do not understand your meaning.”

“Under the circumstances, it’s probably better that you don’t.”

 

He breathed.

 

Jim had been friends with Michael. Jim had been friends with Tilly. Jim had been on the holo-comm with Michael and Tilly. Jim had been promoted. Jim would adore him. Jim was James T. Kirk. James T. Kirk was Captain of the USS Enterprise. Commander Spock was Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise’s first officer and science officer… and Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise was the closest thing Commander Spock had to a friend.

Anything else was preposterous and not worth considering. It was only logical to accept reality as it was. He would not force what was not there.

 

He breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tilly and Spock provide the dialogue here, although at one point Tilly is speaking to Michael and Spock overhears.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated.  
> [My tumblr](https://bitterific.tumblr.com)


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